Dinner at the Lecters'
by Clarice-M-Starling
Summary: A day in the life of the Lecters' and their daughter Mischa. (Insanity I tell you!)


Usual disclaimers apply. 

This one is a parody, plain and simple. This would definitely be freaky if it really happened lol! My mom is really the one who came up with the idea for the story and of calling the kid Mischa. In case you don't already know, Mischa is the name of Hannibal's little sister that was *ahem* killed and cannibalized when he was just a boy. It's in "Hannibal" the book. Anyway... I had fun with this one 'cause it's pretty crazy! I hope you enjoy it! Please review and tell me what you think! And please, remember that it's not even supposed to be in-character or believable. Thanks for reading!! 

~Clarice (Hannah) 

P.S. Tell Me if you think there should be a sequel. I'm not sure if I will, but tell me if you really think there should be and I'll consider another one. 

* * *

**Dinner at the Lecters'**

Hannibal Lecter enters his huge gothic-style mansion. It's an exquisite house, with beautiful mahogany-stained oak flooring, high ceilings adorned with chandeliers and only the finest furniture. He walks across the foyer to two large and very expensive glass doors, and enters the den. From there he merges left and down the hall to the kitchen were his wife meets him with open arms. "Good evening, Clarice." He wraps his arms around her tightly and kisses her on the cheek. 

"Good evening, Darling." 

Suddenly there is a pounding of little feet and then a small child jumps into Hannibal's arms. "Daddy, Daddy!" the child screams excitedly. 

"How was your day, Mischa?" Hannibal asks his adorable six year old. 

"Great! Mommy took me shopping and bought me this!!" From behind her back appears a small stuffed lamb. "Don't you love it, Daddy?" the child asks. 

"It's lovely, Mischa." Satisfied by her father's answer she leaves the room and bounds up stairs towards her room.

"Careful Mischa, don't run!" her mother calls after her. Oblivious to her mother's concerns she runs anyway. 

Hannibal shakes his head and stares Clarice in the eyes. ",...Just like her mother,..."

Clarice smiles and arches an eyebrow. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asks. 

",...Well,..."

Clarice laughs then bops her husband in the head with a roll of paper towels. "Well,...if she's just like me,...why was she the only kid at Sarah's eight birthday party that asked if the adults were having Chianti or Chateau with dinner?" 

"Okay,...fine,...you got me." 

"So,...what's the plans for dinner?" 

"I think,...we should invite the new neighbours for dinner,..."

"Funny, Dear." Clarice heads down the hall towards the den. 

"No,...seriously Darling,...dinner 'guests', not the main course."

"Whatever you want Honey,..."

Not watching his step,...Hannibal almost trips over a plastic T-Rex. "Mischa! Down stairs now!" 

A tiny head pops up from around the staircase banister. "Yes Daddy?" She smiles her sweetest,...looking completely innocent. 

"Get this stuff up before someone falls down over it,...preferably me,..."

"Coming Daddy." She says before hurrying down stairs. Clarice sits on the sofa,...and Hannibal removes another dinosaur from his chair before sitting down.

Mischa enters the room and starts picking up her stuff,...plastic dinosaurs, her new lamb, her newest drawing. 

"What have you drawn now, Mischa?" asks Hannibal.

"It's a Quetzelcoatlas."

"A Quetzel-cu-what-las?"

"A dinosaur, Daddy!"

"Ahh,... What's this new obsession with... dinosaurs?" Hannibal asks Clarice.

Clarice shrugs and smiles at the spectacle then tells Mischa to finish cleaning up. "Hannibal?" 

"Yes, my Love?" he asks. 

"If you're inviting the Jones' over for dinner,...you better call them now."

"Oh yes,...right,..."

***

At 7:00 pm. there is a knock on the door of the Lecter mansion, or the McNeill mansion, as their acquaintances know them by. Hannibal answers the door and ushers the dinner guests in. "Mr. and Mrs. Jones,...so glad you could come." He looks down at two kids, one maybe nine the other roughly Mischa's age. "...And I see you've brought the children."

"We figured you wouldn't mind."

",...Of course not,..." he ushers them to the den, where Clarice and Mischa stand waiting to greet their guests. Mischa looks like an angel in her summer print dress, and her deep chestnut hair hangs in spirals around her face and shoulders. Her hair is naturally curly and her eyes are maroon like her father's. 

Clarice and Mischa greet the neighbours then they are all seated and the adults chat casually. Mischa and the youngest Jones' child, Amy, sit like perfect little ladies on the sofa, but the older child, Brandon, is already nosing around. Hannibal glances nervously at the expensive crystal vase on the coffee table. Brandon snatches the glass and examines it closely. Suddenly, it is snatched from his hand, and Mischa sits the vase back on the table. Mischa folds her hands together behind her back and says sternly to the child, "That's very expensive,...so let's leave it where it is, shall we?" Now she returns to her seat beside her mother. 

All eyes were on the children until Mischa sat down, but now they have resumed conversation, and no one speaks of the incident. Hannibal stands up and suggests "Is everyone ready to eat?" Everyone agrees they are hungry and they all proceed to the kitchen. While eating dinner, the adults decide to discuss their children. 

"What grade are yours in?" Clarice asks the woman, Laura. 

"Well,...Amy is in second, and Brandon is in third. They go to the expensive private school down on 24th street. Yours?" Clarice can tell the woman is trying to be snide,...and so far she is succeeding.

"Mischa is in second as well." [Heck, I can be snide too! ] Clarice thinks. "She's privately tutored." Which she was for math and science. Hannibal preferred to teach her history, literature, languages, and grammar himself. 

"Ah,...and how are her grades?" [My,...this woman has know idea of the meaning of tact! ] 

"She's never made below a 90." Clarice smiles, proud of herself and Mischa.

"Neither has our Amy. She can read on a third grade level already! How well does Mischa read?" 

Hannibal has had enough. "She's quite the accelerated reader,..." He says.

"How 'accelerated'?" asks Kevin Jones.

"She's finished Dante's 'Divine Comedies' last semester, and this semester we begin Marcus Aurelius." 

The Jones look positively stunned,...and rather embarrassed. Laura manages "Yes...I suppose she is rather advanced."

Hannibal decides to give them a taste of their own medicine, despite the looks he's receiving from Clarice to let it go. "Are either of your children artistic?" 

"Well,...our Brandon is quite the little artiste! He's won art talent competitions at school for the last two years!"

"Impressive." States Hannibal calmly, knowing Mischa is far better in art. 

"And Mischa?"

"Well,...perhaps we should let her show you herself. Mischa Darling, run and get your sketches from the drawing room." A few moments later she comes back with the drawings and hands them to her father. He then hands them to Kevin and Laura.

They look rather impressed and a bit jealous, and Hannibal winks at Mischa, who then takes her seat by her mother. 

There are sketches of birds, landscapes, and portraits. She definitely takes after her father in that department. After feeling rather inferior, the Jones' hand the papers back to Hannibal, who hands them to Mischa. Hannibal suggests, "Why don't you children go play in the den." 

"Okay, Daddy!" says Mischa as she heads towards the drawing room, Brandon and Amy following. 

After putting the papers in their proper place, Mischa asks "What do you want to do?" 

"You like dolls?" asks Amy.

"What?? Are you kidding? This girl ain't never gonna be caught playing with no doll!" As much as Hannibal has tried to instill grammar in Mischa, and though most of the time she is extremely proper, when she is antagonized her mother's southern drawl is apparent in her voice. 

"Me either!" says Amy. Apparently, maybe one member of the Jones' family is tolerable. 

"Dinosaurs?" asks Mischa.

Amy nods and Mischa hurries upstairs to fetch her collection of plastic dinos. When Mischa comes down stairs she finds Amy and Brandon standing over the shattered remains of her father's crystal vase. "I told you not to touch it!!" Mischa screams at the boy. "Now you are in so much trouble. Daddy is NOT going to be happy over this!" 

The boy looks nonchalant about it and says "So,...it's just a dumb ol' vase anyhoo!" 

Mischa gets right in his face and stares him in the eyes and says "VAZZZZE!", correcting his pronunciation. 

Suddenly the adults inter the room, noticing it had become too quiet in the den. Hannibal immediately notices the vase on the floor, and the Jones' boy looks extremely unconcerned. "What happened to the vase?" asks Laura. The boy stands guiltily staring at the floor. 

"You didn't?!" asks Kevin. "Oh,...great!"

"It' just a dumb ol' vase,...and,...and,...Mischa pushed me!" he says accusingly.

"I did most certainly not!" replies Mischa. 

"It's alright." says Hannibal, not really that concerned over the vase. "It was on sale anyway."

"We'll pay you back." says Laura.

"Oh no,...I wouldn't accept anything,...I'm sure it was an accident,..." he says and winks at Brandon. "Right?"

The boy sarcastically replies "Yea,...sure,..." and stares blankly at the shards of crystal. 

"Well,...I'm really sorry about the vase, Mr. McNeill. Is it alright though, if we discuss it tomorrow? I'm afraid we must be heading home." 

"No,...I'll hear no more of it." He opens the door for them. "I would, however, love it if perhaps one evening Brandon here would,...join us for dinner,...." 


End file.
